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Chapter 1 - Natalie

Physical therapy is a bitch.

I swear “Darcy the therapist” gets off on causing me pain. All she does is smile. Either that, or she’s on Xanax.

“Ruby would have been better,” I mutter to myself, then feel the stab of pain in my gut at the thought of my roommate. The roommate I haven’t really seen in months.

We weren’t attached at the hip, but she was my only friend here. Is. She’s still my friend. Just one who seems to ignore me. We’ve roomed together since the start of college. We clicked right away because neither of us was into sharing much about ourselves, and we didn’t need to be together constantly to be friends. Or so I thought.

Hell, we even got kidnapped together. If that doesn’t make you close with someone, then I don’t know what does.

But since we got back, since I saw her that one time in the hospital, there hasn’t been much from her. A response to a text here and there with an emoji only. No answers to my phone calls, and not once has she stepped back into the apartment. Well, I don’t think she has. Her door is shut, and I don’t want to invade her privacy. I know she’s not dead in there. The smell would be the sign. Besides, I see her sometimes.

I booked my physical therapy at her old job just to see her. How pathetic is that? Don’t answer, I already know. Pretty pathetic. I’ve seen her at the office. I’d hoped she would help me with my leg. It still bugs me even though the doctors said the surgery went well and it’s not broken anymore. But I get numbness, twinges, and aches so much that I feel like I can’t walk on it. Might all be in my head, might not. The therapy is working, not that Ruby knows. They told me her client list was too full to take on someone new, and then the last time I asked if I could switch, they told me she’s taking a break.

Good. She’s had a tough go of it. Having a dead dad, not-dead dad, getting kidnapped, and sleeping with your bodyguard is a lot for anyone. I don’t fault her for taking time for herself. I’m even proud that she’s doing it. A year ago, she’d have just pushed through or some shit.

Breaks are good. Soothing and all that.

Something I should probably do too, but that’s not how I handle my drama or my trauma. I much prefer the method of pretending it never happened. I’m the bury-my-head-in-the-sand type. It works. Kind of.

Till my stepsister, Reina, showed up.

The same time that Ruby stopped talking to me. Funny coincidence, right? Yeah, I don’t believe in them either.

I went almost five years with no one from my past life reaching out, and then on the last day I saw Ruby, my rock who didn’t even know it, the biggest train wreck I know walked into my world. And she isn’t leaving.

I see Reina everywhere I go, whether I’m in Kansas City or Manhattan. Just glances out of the corner of my eye, but enough to know I’m not imagining things.

I know she sees me too.

She wants to destroy anything I have. It’s been her favorite hobby since she came into the family.

At first, I didn’t care enough about anything that she tried to take from me. None of it mattered. But then her mother, Michiko, had my dad change my name. My freaking name! That’s when I stopped rolling over and taking what she wanted and fought back.

Not by hitting or slapping, even though I wanted to. No, I did it in ways that made a bigger impact.

I got close to my grandfather, the head of the family.

I became his companion of sorts. He trusted me well enough and allowed me in places that she was never meant to enter. That infuriated her to no end. And it was the only time I remember smiling when I lived with her.

But I got lazy. Thought I’d won the war when it was only a battle in her eyes.

When she’d had enough of my small manipulations, Reina took something that I thought wasn’t a possibility. She had her mother, her friends, and sometimes my father guiding her. I only had myself. No one else. I asked my grandfather for one favor. Just one. And since I had never asked for anything else in my life, not even a gift for my birthday or Christmas, he granted it.

I was set free.

But now, with Reina here, I think my freedom has finally been canceled. Not by her, but by the family. Reina has some talents, but she wouldn’t waste time finding me. I was gone, which was all she wanted. If she’s here now, it’s because the family wants me back somehow. Something she can’t let happen.

Joke’s on her, though.

I don’t want to go back. Never have, never will.

The Uber driver stops in front of my place, and I get out and climb the stairs. I rarely spring for a ride when I have something to do in town, but after the first few weeks of physical therapy, I learned walking is harder right after a session, so I splurge, but only on the ride back.

I need to get a car. Something small and reliable. If Reina gets too bad here, I can just take off. Go on the road and see how life is. I’ve become secretly addicted to those van-life videos on my social media accounts and binge-watch them nightly. I could live like a minimalist. Already do, really. The only things I have are clothes and books for classes. But… what if I signed up for online classes only and just went? Left all this behind?

Man, that sounds so damn appealing.